The Line Shack
by rosiem57
Summary: Who will win the battle?


He rode out early in the morning. As Jess settled comfortably into his saddle and Traveller fell into his stride, Jess thought of the task in hand.

Slim and Jess had spoken at length last night, out on the porch in the cool evening air. It was a clear velvet night and the vast arena of stars sparkled. Talking came easy, with both men looking outwards away from the family ranch house that glowed behind them. Sounds of dishes clattering and the occasional voice of Andy and Jonesy pierced the quiet. Slim looked out over his domain, content at the end of another working day and inwardly assessing the next days' activities. Slim glanced over at Jess. Since arriving in Laramie and accepting his offer to stay on, the young drifter had worked as Slim's hired man with few grumbles. It was early days yet but for the most part the last couple of months had passed relatively smoothly. Oh sure, there had been a few hiccups, and Slim and Jess had butted heads on a couple of occasions, but it was still early days.

Slim stood with his hands lightly on his hips. He was a strong, tall man but possessed a graceful, balanced stance. As he looked at Jess, he suddenly had an awareness that perhaps things were not as settled as he had believed. Jess also looked outwards but Slim noticed that Jess's eyes were not turned towards the barn or corral, but slightly upwards towards the horizon. Slim suddenly had the awareness that Jess Harper's dark blue eyes were scanning the horizon, and searching. Slim had this feeling before when he had been doing tasks with Jess. Jess was with him in the present, but there was something there that detached him. Slim was realizing that Jess Harper was a man of many layers and wondered if he would ever know the real man.

Slim decided to jump in feet first and ask Jess a couple of personal questions. Slim had the feeling that if he did not move the relationship on a bit he would turn out with a perfectly good ranch hand who would drift on shortly. It wasn't in Slim's nature to be nosey, he was normally too busy with the Stages, the jobs around the ranch, and bookwork, for such niceties, but he came to the realization that Jess's company had eased the pressure.

"Tell me a little about yourself, Jess. We've been so busy this Fall that….", Slim paused watching Jess closely as his ranch hand abruptly returned to the here and now.

Jess was polite. "Nothin' to tell Slim." Nothing good at least Jess thought to himself.

Slim let it drop. He was a little hurt that Jess did not trust him, but without knowing the man's background, he understood that he was prying beyond what Jess was ready to give. Slim decided then to give Jess a task that would involve a few days away in case he was feeling penned. It would do Jess good to get out on the range. Slim had previously given Jess an odd day off to go to town, but Slim knew they had not been much fun. Mort Corey had told him how the locals were wary of Jess and avoided him. Some people were downright rude. The residents of Laramie saw a drifter with a reputation of a gun hand. Word had got around. A slim man who walked with his hand not far from his low-slung holster and they knew he was no good. They couldn't figure why their local family rancher Slim Sherman would hire the lowlife. Somehow Jess had managed to get into a brawl at the Saloon, and when Slim had suggested the dance the next Saturday, Jess had said it might be better if he didn't go. Slim knew enough of Jess to know that before coming to Laramie he had drifted substantially from job to job and had enjoyed the Big Open.

So, it was decided that night that Jess would ride out tomorrow to the line shack in the East quarter. It had been quite a while since Slim had been there. Jess would take enough provisions for a few days. His job was to undergo any repairs and make it ready for Spring when they would be working some cattle in that area. Slim did not anticipate that it was a big job, but it was one he would like done before Winter. Slim was not looking forward to visiting the East quarter himself as it was a lonely neck of the woods, but thinking on it, it would hopefully suite Jess to a tee.

* * *

It was a foggy morning when he rode out, which was odd as the night had been so clear. As Jess reached the top of the hill above the little ranch house, he turned in the saddle to look back. Jess never looked back; he was uncertain why he did on this particular morning. He could not see the house, the fog covered the entire clearing but it was a strange fog because it was like an inert, heavy earthen blanket burying the house and barn, and any signs of life. There was an eerie stillness, and a quiet that seemed less than natural. Jess realized he could not hear the noise of the horses, chickens or any person moving in that patch. He felt the damp fingers of the mist linger on the back of his neck, and he shrugged his coat higher and turned to ride.

* * *

Jess rode on. He made good time and had stopped for a break mid- afternoon. Truth be told he was enjoying the freedom and looked forward to the small degree of responsibility Slim had given him. Most of what he needed for repairs could be found at the line shack. Slim had told him both the directions to the cabin, and where to find the supplies. Jonesy had provided some food supplies..well, more than Jess would ever need. Traveller was rested, and Jess mounted again to finish his journey.

The air was cooling, and Jess pressed on to reach his destination before nightfall. The afternoon leg took longer than Jess anticipated, and a soft misty rain began to fall. At Slim's insistence he had brought along a Slicker, and Jess stopped beneath a large pine and put it on. He figured it was better to arrive dry as the first thing he would have to check was the potbelly in the shack and get a fire started. He patted Traveller, "Not long now Boy," and Traveller responded with a gentle playful head toss, acknowledging Jess's attention. Jess's eyes searched the terrain ahead. What Jess saw ahead took him aback. At the edge of the trees, and the beginning of what Slim had told him was the clearing leading to the line shack, was a rolling, swirling fog. Jess was used to nature and her rapid changes but it had been only minutes ago that he was looking in that direction, and the way had appeared somewhat overcast but clear. Not one to dwell on the oddities of nature, Jess nudged Traveller in the direction of the fog.

It was hard to explain what it was like riding through that brief patch of fog. It was surprisingly warm and cloying. It was so dense that Jess could not see ahead, but Traveller walked on as if knowing the direction to go. Jess felt his head spinning, and suddenly felt he may be sick. Just as he was about to be physically ill the fog melted away, and the line shack stood on the rise in front of horse and rider. Jess's attention turned to the hut and his feelings of nausea passed.

Jess rode Traveller to the hitching rail, and Jess dismounted. He stumbled. It was unusual for Jess not to be sure-footed but he didn't think anything of it, and jumped towards the door. A quick check of the musty interior was enough to reassure Jess that the shack was relatively sound, and possibly unscathed since Slim had been there nine months ago. The potbelly looked OK on a brief glance, and Jess continued outside to tend to Traveller in the lean-to at the back. Slim had left some feed in the lockup beside the lean-to, and as Jess cared for Traveller he noted that although the quality was not great, the feed had not been too decimated by varmints. He took his saddle and stores inside, rechecking the fireplace, and went to gather some wood. There was a small pile of useable wood near the fire, but darkness and cold were rapidly closing in so Jess busied himself gathering some more.

As Jess walked towards a small copse of slender pines, his eyes caught a flash of colour. There lying in a crumpled heap at the base of a tree was a body. The body appeared to have been there for quite some time. Jess studied the corpse. The clothes would indicate an ordinary cowboy. Dirty shirt and pants now almost the colour of the earth around them. A bandana that once had been blue, and boots now at a strange angle. He did not wear a coat, but a vest which was hard to identify against the rotting shirt. The flesh on the face and hands was shrunken, and what hair remained was stringy and long of indeterminable colour. Eyes long plucked out by plundering birds looked blankly at some unknown spot beyond the top of the pine. Something gave the impression that this was a young man.

Jess bent down. He slipped a hand into the vest pocket checking for identification. There was none. As he withdrew his hand the body moved slightly and Jess jerked backwards. It was just decayed bones collapsing with the small movement from Jess's hand. Jess realized in the same moment what had caused the movement but it was disconcerting anyway. It gave Jess a new angle to the body and what he saw next further disturbed him. Around the neck, and originally hidden from Jess's sight was a frayed rope. Jess stood and looked up. On a branch above his head was a short piece of old rope, tied securely to the branch. It too had rotted and had become almost the colour of the bark.

As startling as his discovery was, Jess was drawn back to the here and now by a blast of chilly air. He moved away to the other trees and gathered some firewood. It was almost proper dark now, and Jess lit the sole lamp. He thought of the body amongst the pines, and it was too late to do anything now. Tomorrow he would have a closer look and bury the body. He did have the time and compassion to revisit the body and place a blanket over the remains. Jess quickly returned to the shack, checked on Traveller, hung his hat on the bracket along the wall, then washed his hands and face in the water he had warmed on the stove, and locked the door. The wind moaned and swirled around the hut.

* * *

Jess was not hungry and settled in front of the potbelly on a rolled up thin mattress he had discovered in the back room. His saddle provided its usual head rest and his gun was hung in easy reach. It had been a strange day, and the weary cowboy soon drifted into fitful sleep.

It came for him about 3a.m. It had watched him from the darkness of the corner of the room. Just watching and waiting. The potbelly threw a warm glow over Jess and it could see his soft falls of his chest. Jess became more animated with his dreams. He had always suffered from nightmares, even as a child. His had not been an easy life and he was haunted by the death of loved ones, and regrets of some of his choices. The creature sensed the hurt in this man and knew it could easily have him. It moved forward in excited anticipation. The last one had been too long ago, but it had been rewarding to see him finally jerk broken and crying at the end of his own rope. This one would be the same.

Jess was dreaming of the fire in his parent's home on the Panhandle. It wasn't much of a house but it was all they had. He would have liked to think they were a happy family, but they were not. His father gave them little time and the time he gave them was usually brutal, and his mother driven by all her duties, including those of his father, was not well. As a group the children ran wild. His mother had long given up trying to control the older children, himself included. His mother concentrated on the little ones and tried to see they at least received some daily sustenance. Jess tried to help. He went shooting often bagging a small evening meal, and he hoed and carried water for the vegetable garden but he was aware that he too was a burden and should leave soon for the family's own benefit.

The fire was unexpected. He remembered the chaos, the screaming and shouting and the smell. He could not save them.

As Jess tossed the creature grew stronger and closer. The nightmarish images Jess was having intensified. Jess's heart beat wilder. The creature transformed, and beside Jess in the line shack stood his golden haired little brother. As the creature stood it spread its tiny arms and the tips of his fingers began to smoulder with a black-blue acrid smoke. The child squealed in dreadful agony, tears streaming down his soft pink cheeks, but his face was raised in rapture.

Jess bolted awake and grabbed his gun. He was aware that he was not alone. The creature startled by the lightening response immediately vanished, withdrawing into its demonic self. Jess caught a small movement and leapt to his feet. Jess was breathing heavily, and he was covered in sweat. If the creature had been human it would have been dead from Jess's gun. Jess relit the lamp and scoured the room, checking all corners of the line shack. He felt exhausted by his nightmare but stayed up for a while making a coffee and eating a few of the biscuits Jonesy had cooked. When he settled it was to a light sleep as dawn was not far away.

The malevolent source watched menacingly for a fleeting time. This one was a surprise but he would still be easy. His soul was scarred, and he was lonely. Tomorrow night he would take him.

* * *

Jess rose and checked Traveller and then thought his first job should be to bury the cowboy. He moved down to the stand of trees and began digging a grave in an open area away from the pine roots. Jess was thinking how little the body had been damaged by scavengers, considering the time he appeared dead. From his clothes it would appear he died last Spring. Perhaps Slim would know something about him. Jess always kept his gun close and he continued to do so, shocked that a man could be hung and left until he fell with no trace or marker to note him. Maybe this man had a family, a wife, children or maybe he just had no-one.

Jess finished the hole and went over to the body. He took out his knife and tried to cut the rope from the stranger's neck. It didn't seem right to bury him with it around his neck. Jess used an old blanket to contain the remains and move them to the grave and laid the body to rest. He checked the back pocket for any papers but there were none. He filled in the grave and said some words.

"Well, Lord, you and me aren't always on speaking terms but I hope you take this boy for all he was. I don't know if he was good or bad, but he surely deserved better than a nameless grave. He once had a name, and I'd say you alone know what that was."

Jess worked around the line shack. It was a crisp morning but the sun was shining. He had fixed the broken poles in the corral, and a few shingles on the roof. He had nearly slipped on the roof but had caught himself in time. By mid- afternoon he had finished his list of chores and sat around the side talking to Traveller and working on the cross for the grave. He walked over and inserted it into the freshly turned soil. He thought of starting the trip back. He was holding off spending another night at the hut but the weather began to turn. Tomorrow would be another day.

Jess stepped inside, and it was then he noticed it. He went to hang his hat on the bracket and he saw the hat overturned on the floor. It was a dark brown hat, not unlike his own. Jess bent and picked it up and he ran his hand around the band. Whilst turning the hat in his hand he noticed pencilled inside the hat…" Andrew Caton" and the date just after the war. It was a well looked after hat, and Jess just knew that it was his hanged man's hat. It gave him a lead and he had every intention of finding out more about the man. He took the hat down to the grave and placed it on the cross.

"So, Andrew …rest in peace,"

Jess bowed his head and thought for a minute. He would do a bit of looking. He picked up the hat.

"I'll bring it back,.. I promise."

His night so far was quiet and uneventful. Traveller was bedded down but Jess felt uneasy. He couldn't explain the feeling. Jess had been alone so much on the Trail that he knew imagination could be more frightening than reality at times.

Eventually Jess settled into his snug bed in front of the fire. He checked his gun and extinguished the lamp. The Thing watched him.

Jess slept peacefully. The creature waited. It moved closer. This was not right; his victim was restful. He had played with him today hoping to upset his rhythm but it seemed he liked his work, and putting the cowboy in the ground did not distress him. Just the opposite, it seemed to give him strength. He did not seem to be lonely; in fact, he seemed to enjoy being alone. But then it knew what was amiss. It was too early; his eager, vile anticipation to claim this one was too soon. A jagged fingered talon oozed forward from the dark, heaving mass and hovered close to Jess's beating heart. The man moaned. He could rip him to bloody shreds now and leave his torn body for someone else to find. The creature's bloodlust rose.

"Slim", Jess murmured. The Creature flew to its corner, and waited. It began to move forward again, but it could only get so close. Something protected this man. The Thing knew some of the bonds that made men beyond his reach and he did not think this man had them. Morals, loyalty, love. This one was not so ready to give them away. He would wait.

* * *

Jess rode back to the Sherman ranch. He was tired but pleased when Andy, Jonesy and Slim all came out of the house to greet him.

"Good to have you back safe and sound Jess," the tall rancher said, and strangely Jess was glad and relieved to be back at the Relay Station.

Jess unsaddled Traveller, and Andy gave the horse a well- earned rub down. Andy spotted the spare brown hat and picked it up, plunking it on his head.

"Hey, did you buy a new hat Jess?"

"No Tiger, put that down. It has a bit of a story, and I want to ask Slim and Jonesy some questions."

It wasn't until later that Jess remembered the hat. They were sitting, or stretched out in Jess's case, in front of the open fire, the tendrils of warmth reaching, wrapping around and caressing them all. Earlier Slim had fired a series of questions to Jess about the line shack, its readiness and so on, and Jess had answered all comprehensively. Jonesy had interrupted with dinner and it was only now relaxing he remembered the body.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you I found a body."

Slim, Jonesy and Andy's heads all swivelled and stared mutely at Jess.

"He'd been dead a while Slim. Looked like a young cowboy. Looked like he'd been hanged from one of the Pines. I buried him in the meadow below the shack. Couldn't bring him back, he was too far gone. I guess I'll have to report it to the local Sheriff."

"Did he have any papers or identification Jess?"

"Nah Slim, but I found his hat later. It was in the line shack, and the writing inside the band said the name Andrew Caton or Cohen, something like that. There was a date too but it was too recent to be his birth year. Least ways I thought it was his hat. I was gonna leave it at the grave, but thought it might be some clue to what happened. It's almost a new hat."

Andy turned a funny colour. He had some desiccated corpse's hat on his head. He might be sick. And its name was like his own. He jumped to his feet for a drink of water.

"Do either of you know the name?" Jess stood and retrieved the hat from his room. He passed it to Slim, who answered whilst looking along the inside band. Jonesy shook his head. They ignored the mortified looking Andy as he wandered back from the kitchen.

"No," Slim replied thoughtfully. "We'll go into Laramie tomorrow and see Mort. See if he knows the name or even what happened out there."

Jess slept well that night. The sleep of the Dead they say. He had to admit he was glad to be back.

* * *

Mort glanced at the young man as he and Slim examined the hat. Jess stood back withdrawn and uncommunicative. Slim had done most of the talking when they had entered the office. "Perhaps I should check my flyers again,'" the Sheriff with years of experience thought.

"I'll send a few telegrams off over that way Slim and see what they turn up. Can't say as I know the name. There were some Catons up past Little Springs, but that was a while back. You say he'd been hanged Harper, what kind of rope?" What kind of knot?" Could you tell if he'd been shot at all?"

Mort wanted to cast a closer look over this man Harper. Jess did not move from his spot but considered his answer. "Now you mention it Sheriff, it was normal everyday rope. The knot was the kind you use every day tying off stuff, and he was long past showing any wounds. The clothes were fairly far gone so I guess you couldn't tell."

"And you said he'd been dead a long while?" Mort's question seemed to take a particularly interrogative tone.

"That's what I said Sheriff," Jess's voice dropped to a growl.

"Now wait a minute Mort, Jess would not have made this up. Why would he even bother to say a thing to me and you if this wasn't the straight story?" Slim protested, as he felt the tension ripple between Mort and Jess.

Mort looked back to Slim, "You're right Slim, we'll see what the telegrams turn up." Mort had seen some odd crimes in his times and had seen some fancy alibis. He wasn't one to rush to conclusions and liked to hold his judgment. However, that judgement went both ways.

* * *

Jess was sullen as they rode away from Laramie.

"I'm going to ride over to Little Springs Slim."

"Yeah, I thought you might. I'm coming too Jess. It's not that I don't trust you to find out the truth, I just think that maybe with Mort thinking the way he is that a second pair of eyes would be good. I can get Walt Logan to help at the ranch for a few days. Sides, I need a break from the ranch as much as you do….and to be honest I don't like the way Mort questioned my judgement in the choice I made for my ranch hand."

Jess considered Slim's words and could find no fault in them. They settled into their ride and blew the cobwebs away in companionable silence.

* * *

Slim and Jess rode into Little Springs, both looking for rest, maybe a bath and bed. First Slim went to see the Sheriff, while Jess took care of the horses at the Livery. They had pushed themselves and were both feeling weary. Alamo and Traveller could do with a bit of spoiling and Jess arranged just that at the Livery. As pre-arranged, Jess wandered over to the Saloon to wait for Slim.

Jess was aware that at times people stared at him. He was dusty and tired, and in need of a shave and wash. He drew himself in and found a seat at a table towards the back. The small Saloon that was humming when he entered was quiet for a few minutes but as Jess sat silently and pulled his hat down, the mood returned to normal. It was not long before Slim strode in. Slim was just as dusty and weary as Jess and he drew some mild attention but not the strained response of that of his riding companion. Slim threw his hat on the table, and stretched the muscles in his long legs. Jess lifted a weary brow. "He's like some damn huge …something!" Jess mused inwardly.

"Interesting news Jess. The Sheriff hasn't lived here long, but we might have got lucky. There is a Caton boy he sees up around the church a bit, sounds a might simple. He runs a bit wild, and the Sheriff isn't sure yet who exactly looks after him. He reckons it might be worth our while to talk to the Preacher in the morning; his house is the little one right next to the church.

"Great," thought a tired, grumpy Jess. "Preachers and Sheriffs, just perfect."

* * *

Refreshed and back on track, the next morning Jess and Slim walked their way down the short main street to the modest little church. They did not have to look far as they spotted a man busy chopping wood in the yard next to the small building whose sign proudly declared the time of worship as "Any time, but 10a.m Sunday preferred." Jess nudged Slim. The morning was sun filled but cool. Smoke from home fires hung low. The strong, well-built man already had his shirt off and had worked up a sweat. His shirt and holster were well within reach. As Slim and Jess approached, the man casually placed the axe down and picked up his shirt and gun. He did up his buttons and placed a white collar into his neckline.

"We are hoping you can help us," Slim initiated the conversation. Once it was established that no threat existed between either party, it became apparent that the Preacher may be able to help them, although both rancher, and ranch-hand, were startled when the Preacher asked them to take a walk to the cemetery with him.

Once at the graveyard the Preacher showed Slim and Jess two graves; one medium size, one small, well- kept with a small posy of wild flowers on each. Both had a modest headstone, which in itself was not common for the churchyard. The first read, "Emmy Cohen 1869", the second had no name or details.

"What can you tell us Preacher?" asked Jess in a soft low voice, moved at the sight of the graves. He knew the second grave was a child but couldn't work out why there was no inscription. Slim knew. The baby had been either been a stillbirth or died shortly after birth. Custom of the day dictated that for some people an unbaptised baby could not even be buried in consecrated ground, let alone have a marked grave. Slim had come across this before and whilst he believed in a higher power, he could not agree that his God would not accept the most fragile and innocent amongst them.

"I only know she died in childbirth, not much older than a child herself. They were not from my church, but were brought to my care after death. The church she was with, well, they are an odd lot. It was a member of the family carried her in to me and has been with us ever since. Come back down to the house and I'll tell you more, and no doubt Samuel will be in this morning. He visits the church and Emmy every day."

When Samuel arrived, the Preacher had already explained a little more of his circumstance. The Preacher was not sure of Samuel's relation to Emmy but he knew he doted on her and the baby. Samuel was not quite right, or the same, compared to other people, but the Preacher said he had a kind heart. Samuel took refuge at the church, particularly when he was bullied or hungry. The Preacher gave him jobs to do and paid him accordingly as required. Where he slept, and what he did with his spare time, was unknown. At first the Preacher had tried to ask him more about Emmy, but Samuel always became distressed and after time passed it became less important.

Samuel was a wild looking young man. He appeared about seventeen, older than Jess and Slim expected. He was scrawny and unkempt but appeared gentle and unafraid. Slim moved forward to ask him some questions, but when he mentioned Emmy, Sam looked wild eyed and appeared ready to bolt.

"Wait Slim," Jess indicated, and Slim withdrew.

Jess hurried out the door and within a short time he had returned, and in his hand, he carried the brown hat. Slim nodded and pointed to the graveyard.

Jess approached the young man kneeling at the grave, and as he swung to see who was approaching Samuel became fixated with the brown hat. Jess dropped to his haunches beside him.

"Tell me about them Sam" Jess softly said.

* * *

Sam and Emmy had been childhood friends They had grown up surrounded by a pious group of adults. Sam and Emmy had been different. They laughed and ran together, squeezing as much fun as they possibly could amongst the adult bleakness. They did not realize that the burdens of adulthood and the responsibilities of family had wrapped around the parents like an iron rung crushing their joy of life. Sam and Emmy knew they would always be together, and when Sam's older brother asked for Emmy's hand, Sam was thrilled. The three of them became an impenetrable force, and when Andrew and Emmy built a small sod house Sam helped every step of the way. It was only natural Sam would live with them. Emmy fell pregnant, and once Andrew explained what was going on to Sam, the three settled down contentedly to every day chores.

The Dark Day came when Emmy collapsed in agony one morning after milking the house cow. It was too early for the baby. Sam raced to his father's home for help, and Andrew stayed and comforted Emmy as much as possible. Sam wanted to go to town to find a Doctor but his father had given him a strange look and said that that was not possible. When the Elder woman and his father drove the buggy to the sod house they announced that Emmy's fate was in God's hands. They tried to comfort her and gave her herbal tea for the pains, but there was little they could do. Sam still could not understand why the Doctor could not come.

As the situation worsened Emmy writhed in pain and became delirious. Andrew leapt to his feet, grabbed his hat and charged for his horse. He knew Samuel was with Emmy, and that she needed him to get medical help more than him sitting by her side waiting for her to die. His father and the Elder woman yelled for him not to go, but he did. His father told him that he was sinning and God would Will what was to happen not a Doctor. It was a tumultuous and dreadful time.

It turned out that Emmy died. Sam's father and the Elder woman laid her out, as was their custom, to wait for Andrew's return, and Samuel was given his father's horse to bring his brother back. Sam rode to Little springs and the Doctor's housekeeper told him exactly what she had told Andrew, that the Doctor was called out days ago to help with an outbreak of measles over Laramie way. Sam jumped on his horse and galloped after Andrew.

Both Andrew and Sam knew about the shortcut to Laramie. The weather was closing in, and a heavy fog had started to descend, so Sam turned his horse towards the direction he believed his older brother had taken, more concerned about catching his brother than his own comfort.

At first Sam thought he was lost. The fog was thick, wet and it seemed to go forever. Sam emerged after what seemed an indeterminable time, and he was in a green meadow surrounded by graceful pines. His brother sat on the ground in the middle of the field, his horse grazing beside him. Sam was surprised but pushed the horse forward.

Andrew looked up absently, his eyes unseeing and blank. "She's dead, isn't she? "

"And the Baby", Sam added as he looked down from his horse, unable to comprehend how to help his helpless brother.

* * *

"I left him there Jess. I didn't want to but he made me come back for Emmy and the baby. That was the last I saw him. "

Jess gently told Sam that he had found Andrew's body. He did not tell him about the rope. Jess guessed what had happened to the grief- ridden man. Sam showed little emotion. His eyes searched those of Jess. "I knew he wasn't coming home."

Jess silently offered Sam the hat.

"No Mister, Emmy got that for Andrew. It was special. He wouldn't take it off." Sam picked it from Jess's hand and placed it on the baby's grave. "Now he's got a name too."

Jess felt his heart almost shatter for the young man.

* * *

Slim pondered on how little he really knew about Jess. They were riding back home. They would go via the grave and line shack. Jess had something he wanted to do at the grave, and it would give Slim a chance to cast his eye over the place. Having been the oldest in his family, having been away from home during the war, and the subsequent years of responsibility after his parents passed away, Slim was not afraid of being on his own. However, the isolation of the line shack had always unsettled him. He never felt comfortable there and spent as little time as possible at the location. Briefly he wondered if that was an underlying reason he had sent Jess up there to do the work and not gone himself. He was glad Jess was with him. He felt a connection to the man, but he still did not understand why. Slim liked to think things through rationally but the threads of this puzzle were, for the present, escaping his analytical mind.

It was a magnificent sunny Fall day. The riding was easy and at last Slim and Jess rode into the grassy meadow. The line shack stood on the small rise and below, near the pines, Slim saw the modest cross and grave. The two men dismounted a respectable distance from the grave. Jess took his parcel from Traveller, and together the men, hats in hand, moved forward.

With the help of some rawhide Jess assembled the wooden cross he had carried from Little Springs. He removed his roughhewn cross and placed the other in its place.

Etched on the cross were the words,

Andrew Caton

Loved Husband of Emmy and baby Andrew

Brother of Samuel

Burned above the name was a drawing of a cowboy hat; the dark brown hat that belonged to Andrew.

The men stepped back in silence; heads bowed.

Jess turned his head towards Slim. Slim did not expect the next words spoken.

"Don't turn around Slim, but someone is in the Shack watching us." The minute Jess said it Slim felt it as well. He had an overwhelming sense of danger. As if rehearsed, both men spun together and drew their guns. They scrambled amongst the safety of the pines. Slim caught the movement of one of the ragged curtains covering the window of the line-shack. They waited. The picture was unchanged. The sun fell onto the lush meadow, and the horses grazed contently. Minutes passed.

"Whoever is in the Shack had better come out," Slim commanded.

No response.

"We saw you, so come out!" Again, he yelled.

Slim indicated to Jess for him to move up towards the rise, and together they worked their way up through the pines. Jess on the right side, Slim on the left.

"We don't want to shoot but this is your last chance," Slim shouted again, and moved rapidly behind a stout pine.

The men were positioned strategically on either side of the shack, and Slim hand signalled Jess to storm the cabin on the count of three. When Slim's third finger rose they both rushed to the outside of the shack and stood on either side of the door. With a nod Slim moved and slammed his lanky leg against the door and with a crash it swung open. Both bodies hurtled through the opening ready to blast any occupants.

There was nothing. They stalked through the room and alcove but the shack was silent, cold and empty.

"Don't know about you Slim but I could sure use a coffee. Must have been a varmint." Jess voiced it, but neither felt it. Jess moved to the pot-belly and started the makings of a fire.

Adrenaline still coursed through Slim's body and he felt irritable.

"Of course you do. When do you ever not need a coffee!" Slim snarled more than he intended. Jess looked abruptly towards Slim but said nothing.

"And while you're about it get some more wood. We may as well stay overnight here in comfort than start back for home now. I'll take care of the horses."

Jess started towards Slim, "Now see here...", but Slim had wheeled out the door.

The Thing leered, and waited.

* * *

Both men settled in for the evening, but neither had much to say. The evening had fallen cold early; a sodden mist swirled, encroaching on the shack. Outside small rivulets of moisture dribbled down the grey seasoned timber permeating into the cracked wood. The little stove gleamed away providing some warmth to the weary men. They had arranged their saddles, blankets and the thin mattresses they had located, in front of the fire.

Slim looked towards Jess, who was seated at the makeshift table. Jess was carving an animal from a piece of pine he had collected earlier; a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. Slim could not explain it. A wave of intense dislike towards Jess swept over him. He guessed Jess was making the animal for Andy. How had this saddle tramp ingratiated himself with his little brother and so wormed his way into his home? He himself had Andy's best interests at heart; he would learn to love ranching as much as he did. Harper was taking Andy from him, making him soft and filling Andy's head with adventure stories. You'd think the way Andy followed Jess everywhere that he was his brother.

Suddenly aware of scrutiny Jess glanced up. He scowled. Why was Slim staring at him? Couldn't the man entertain himself?

"What do you want Slim? Need some coffee?" he growled sarcastically.

"Listen Harper," Slim rose, the dislike melding into a dark hatred. "You been bugging me ever since you started in on Andy. The freeloading the coffee is nothing compared to that. Maybe both should stop." Slim advanced menacingly fists clenched at his side.

"Yeah, whose gonna do the stopping; you Big man? You know the only reason Andy follows me is because as a big brother you stink!" Jess scraped his chair backwards and jumped to his feet. His knife lay on the table.

"Well, what would you know about brothers and family. A man with nothing and nobody. You are a no-one! A pathetic drifter! Your family probably kicked you out. Didn't want you. Oh, but I bet they'd be real proud of the gunslick you've become!"

The words sliced through Jess's heart. What Slim said went to Jess's very core; he knew part of it was true, but not his family, his brothers.

"I'll kill you, you rotten Bastard!" Jess launched himself at Slim.

What Slim had in size and reach Jess had in whipcord strength and sheer force of will. Jess was quick and reactive, Slim was deliberate, and gaged each punch he landed. The fight was brutal and no measure was spared. They were happy to kill each other.

The two men didn't need knives or guns. This was personal, and the more pain they could inflict on the other firsthand the more they continued their frenzy. Each powerful fist that found its mark and smashed into giving flesh, each splatter of fresh blood, each raw grunt in receiving drove each man harder.

The absolute savagery rained down by these two men was ruthless and unforgiving.

The Creature revelled in the hate, the destruction of friendship, and the sheer lust of it all. Men's minds were so effortlessly manipulated.

But as quickly as it started, it finished.

Jess, driven back by a blow from Slim, caught his boot on the corner of the mattress and he slipped, banging his head on the corner of the potbelly. He went down hard and did not come up.

Slim stopped and looked down at Jess lying bloody and helpless at his feet. He shook his head. When did the fight begin? He knew the words he said to Jess, but why did he say them? He had to help his friend.

The Creature was furious. These men would get away. In his anguish the Creature roared. Slim heard the thunderous shriek. It was a cry of utter despair and it penetrated every corner and filled the little line shack. Slim covered his ears but did not have time to dwell on the source of the noise. Slim's focus was on Jess.

* * *

Slim got Jess lying on his bed in front of the fire. He had warmed water and tended to Jess's headwound as best he could. He had also bathed the bruises he had inflicted on Jess's face and chest, and the raw knuckles he saw on his hands. Slim saw to his own injuries as well and wondered if Jess felt as sore as he did. Slim's ribs ached and he suspected he may have a cracked rib or two. Jess could certainly fight.

Now Slim waited for Jess to wake. Slim knew it was best that Jess woke sooner rather than later. Slim started to talk to Jess; he understood from injuries he'd witnessed breaking horses that this was important. He told Jess he was sorry yet again and began to tell him stories of his family.

He interrupted his story, "I'm sorry Jess, what I said it's not true, you know that."

Jess moaned, and his eyes flickered. He took a moment to take in the surroundings. For a minute he wondered how he had become horizontal. His head hurt; then he remembered.

Slim repeated what he had said. "…you know it's not true."

Jess reached up and tentatively touched the bandage on his head.

"You sure hit hard Slim, I didn't see that one coming."

Slim chuckled. He was relieved to see Jess was O.K, and his laughter was a release of tension, and a gladness to see Jess awake again.

"I don't think I could ever put you down Jess. Rest now." Slim moved towards his own welcoming bedding.

Jess paused, "Slim could you do something for me?" Slim turned. "Could you make me a coffee?" Slim laughed and tossed the canteen over to Jess.

* * *

Dawn came too quickly, and although Slim knew it would have been good for Jess to rest some more, he knew it was better for he and Jess to leave this place. Slim had one thing to do before he left. He had thought through the previous night and he realized that what had happened was not natural. He remembered too in graphic detail the animalistic and horrific noise that had overtaken the cabin when he came to his senses about Jess. Slim could think of little else and he felt sick and nervous as all get go, but instinct advised him on the solution.

Jess was saddled and waiting. He had not mentioned the fight or complained about his bruises.

Slim slipped back inside, looked furtively around and opened the potbelly stove. Some small red embers still glowed, and Slim shovelled some onto the mattresses he had deliberately left unrolled. He watched the sparks jump and turn into fire and he left the line shack, closing the door behind him.

As Alamo and Traveller headed out across the meadow the men turned in their saddles.

"It had to be done; something was terribly, terribly wrong." Slim said quietly.

"I know", Jess replied, lifting his hurting head to look at the pall of dark smoke.

"We'll rebuild the line shack, but not here." Slim looked forward to being home.

* * *

It was pure optimism to think the two men would ride all the way home. The spirit was willing but the bodies were battered and sore. Mentally both men were exhausted from their battle not only with each other, but also the evil unknown entity they had faced.

Jess slept in the saddle, and Traveller calmly carried his cargo following in the steps of Alamo. It was Slim who called a halt to the procession. Slim had been watching Jess and wished he too could sleep in the saddle. Slim ached, his ribs hurt, and he was weary beyond sufferance.

Slim stopped and dismounted, "Come on Jess, we need to rest." He walked over and helped Jess slide from Traveller's back. Jess remained standing. Slim put Jess's arm around his shoulder and helped the smaller man to the shade of the Cottonwood trees. Drawing on what strength he had remaining Slim tied the horses and returned to Jess's side. Both shut their eyes.

Slim woke with a start. He was immediately aware of his surroundings under the trees. He was warm and a light breeze was blowing. He looked over and could not see Jess but there was a camp fire beyond his boots, and a blanket loosely across his body. He began to rise only to hear Jess's gravelly voice. "Stay there Mr Sherman, I think you need your rest." Slim moaned, his body certainly reinforced the sentiment.

Jess squatted beside Slim. Jess had some dark bruises on his face, and the wound on his head had bled a little more through the bandage, but Jess looked remarkably well considering the last time Slim saw him. Slim went to throw the blanket off and felt a pain pierce his chest. His hand shot down and he felt a mass under his shirt.

"Gentle Slim, it's a poultice. I found some White Healer beside the little stream behind us. It works good. Had to chew it up though," Jess smiled with a slight turn up of the corners of his mouth.

Slim looked disgusted, but he didn't mind. He had encountered this plant during the war and he knew it to be quite effective for a number of injuries. He was shocked that Jess had treated him but he hadn't woken.

"We're not getting back tonight Slim so you may as well relax. Here drink this." Slim decided to do as he was told. Jess had everything under control and Slim drifted back to sleep. The warm drink Jess had given him tasted good.

When Slim next woke it was to the smell of something delicious wafting on the air. Slim rose slowly and went over to the fire. Jess was crouched near the fire and had a sturdy stick over the low blaze with a succulent rabbit roasting, and a small pan of wild mushrooms and something green. Jess did not look up. "Feeling better?" Jess asked. Slim was feeling much better, and was ravenously hungry. Jess sliced off some rabbit and passed the pan to Slim. Slim was so hungry manners were forgotten and he chomped into the meal. Jess watched him.

As Slim finished he slowed down.

"See trail drifts are good for some things, "Jess said softly.

Night was falling, but Slim looked up straight into a pair of boyish deep blue eyes that showed all the hurt and betrayal they usually hid.

"Jess, I... "Slim started.

"Nah, I shouldn't have said that Slim. Back there I said things I didn't mean exactly. Maybe you did too, I don't know. I didn't mean to say you stink as a big brother, it's just..maybe, you could ease up a bit on the kid. You look after all his needs and that's real important but he needs to be a kid too Slim. You and me Slim we grew up quick, what with the war and all, but just maybe it's better to make being a boy last bit longer and be a bit happier. You know enjoy fishin' and games, and adventures before you gotta do it all just to survive. It's the best thing you can do to allow him to do that." Jess paused never taking his eyes from Slim and he took a deep breath. "I had little brothers too; they didn't get to grow up."

Slim didn't know what to say. He'd been so busy taking care of business at the line shack, and worried about Jess, that he had forgotten the words he had said. Slim's intuition finally kicked in.

"It wasn't just the war was it Jess?"

It was dark now. The fire lit them both against the inky background. Jess looked down. It was too raw, and most likely would never heal.

"No Slim. I was fifteen. My family was burnt out. We were a wild, reckless lot but we didn't deserve that. I tried to save the little ones, but I wasn't strong enough, and the fire was too fast and too hot. I tried." Jess's deep voice cracked a little.

"Your family Jess, were they all…?"

"Ma and Dad, they were dead, shot, before the fire," He looked up again directly into Slim's eyes. "We weren't a perfect family. My father had his own demons. That's how I know about the White Healer plant. I used to get it for Ma. But they were all I had."

"We older ones, we….but the little ones….," Jess had reached his breaking point. He stopped.

Slim was suddenly aware how deep his words had cut.

"I was jealous Jess, just plain blamed jealous. I've tried to have fun with Andy but I don't rightly remember how to be that age. I'm awkward at fun, and all I can think about is what I want for the ranch and I get angry that Andy isn't helping more. I remember his age but forget that he isn't me."

Slim suddenly comprehended that Jess was only slightly older than Andy when his family had been ripped away from him in that unimaginable, disastrous way.

"Would it help if I drew my pay and moved on?" The voice was considered and low, and it hung in the stillness of the night.

Jess searched Slim's face and finally rested his piercing gaze on Slim's eyes. He demanded the truth. Jess had laid his past bare to this man and sensed a brotherhood with him that he rarely felt. He had given away a part of himself that few, if any, men knew. He could look after himself; he'd been doing it with varying success for quite a while now.

Slim paused and thought deeply. What would become of Jess? Would he be lost without them? No, he'd probably get on with his nomadic life. What did the future hold for Andy and himself was actually the real question.

"No, Jess I want you to stay. Andy thinks the world of you, and now I know why. You have that side that can have fun and be young; it drives me crazy. But I think you care for him and that's important. I have never seen you hurt Andy, and I know now you never would. I know he's learning good things from you as an adult as well. He needs a role model. Oh, I'm not saying you are perfect, cause obviously you're not. Hopefully between the two of us he will find his own way. I can't make him into what I want him to be. I'll probably try, but I need you there to pull the rug out from under my stuffy feet from time to time. If this fateful trip has shown me anything it's that I enjoy your company and like having you around. I need someone around to keep me on the straight and narrow. Who would have thought my little brother would have more sense than me? You're all right Jess Harper."

Jess relaxed, "Thanks Slim."

Slim wasn't finished. Jess felt the tension rise again.

"Answer me this question Jess; How long will you stay?"

Jess gazed into the fire. It was a fair question. In fact, it was probably the crucial question. He could pretend he did not want to be where he wasn't wanted, or he didn't want to come between Andy and his brother, but maybe it had nothing to do with that. Could he stay in one place and resist the ever-present call of the Big Open? He wasn't sure but he had to give it a shot. He didn't know what the future held, but the present held some sort of promise.

Jess lifted his head, "I don't know for sure Slim, but I'll try my best."

It was an honest answer. Slim expected nothing less. Jess Harper's best was good enough, and Slim reached forward to slap his friend on the back.

In unison both men groaned as their bodies let them know the friendship came at a price.

* * *

In the fullness of time Slim and Jess rebuilt a line shack in the eastern Quarter. It was at a better site. The grass grew over Andrew Caton's grave until at last it was part of the pasture where cattle grazed, and wildflowers grew. The ashes of the old line shack eventually returned to the earth until no trace was left. Slim and Jess thought of Sam from time to time but word got to them that he was living with the Pastor and had taken up the cloth. Who'd have thought that numbered amongst Jess's friends was a Preacher. What next…a Sheriff?

The End.


End file.
